Stop the world,
I want to get off,
Its lethal whirl
I’ve had enough,
Held toxic while
Man efforts cure,
To anew beguile
Alters not lure,
Or endless excess
Yet denies blame,
Nor will redress
Be damage insane,
He’d ne’er confess
Of liable fed game,
To play you along
Alludes now tame,
For what fits best
On world die-cast,
Man did but infest
Wanted all too fast,
And won’t give rest
Known nothing lasts,
With barely time left!
In solitude,
A coexistence
With oneself,
Gives credence,
To relinquish
Social imitate,
Finding release
From conformity,
For a welcome slice
Of tranquil time,
Offering equability
Worth reaching,
A cause to choose
One visit solitude!
There are feelings
You’d wish press
With words astute,
To thus express
Desperate wanting
Would find redress…
Yet what ensues
Holds but stated
Morose meaning,
Beyond the reach
That now inhibits
Once motor habits,
Said nature’s alibi
For mental silence!
Poetry on a canapé 